


They have that look about them

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Neglect, Role Reversal, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Weirdness, this isn't even a fetish that I have what is happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't comfortable with how it starts.</p><p>Actually, he's really, *really* uncomfortable with it. It starts with Jim watching him with Joanna. He's aware that Jim is watching them interact, not actually watching Jo – if the latter had been the case, Jim would be gone. He loves Jim, by the time he introduces him to his little girl, really loves him – but first and foremost, he's a parent. If push comes to shove, Joanna gets Leonard and Jim gets nothing, and that's how it has to be. Jim is tense all the time, maybe because he knows this, but maybe because of something else. Not agitated. Concerned.</p><p>So no, Jim doesn't want Joanna. He wants to *be* Joanna. But it takes a long time for McCoy to work this out, and until then, he's watchful; suspicious; ready to do what he has to do to protect his child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scopaesthesia, noun: The feeling of being watched.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 2 because I realised it was 3 am.

He isn't comfortable with how it starts.

Actually, he's really, _really_ uncomfortable with it. It starts with Jim watching him with Joanna. He's aware that Jim is watching them _interact_ , not actually watching Jo – if the latter had been the case, Jim would be gone. He loves Jim, by the time he introduces him to his little girl, really loves him – but first and foremost, he's a parent. If push comes to shove, Joanna gets Leonard and Jim gets nothing, and that's how it has to be. Jim is tense all the time, maybe because he knows this, but maybe because of something else. Not agitated. Concerned.

So no, Jim doesn't want Joanna. He wants to _be_ her. But it takes a long time for McCoy to work this out, and until then, he's watchful; suspicious; ready to do what he has to do to protect his child.

This only makes it worse. The protection, Jim yearns for it. Unconditional and strong enough to kill. Bones has never had to kill for anyone, not yet, Joanna included. But in a heartbeat he would kill for either her or Jim; the difference was, if it was Jim's life or Joanna's, Joanna had to win, no matter how much it hurt. He would kill Jim for Joanna, and he makes sure that Jim knows it.

Jim, to his credit, does not try to _detract_ from what Joanna gets of Bones; he just infringes upon it from the sidelines, looking on. It raises McCoy's hackles, but does nothing more. More than window shopping, less than a threat.

He works out that treating them similarly seems to alleviate the constant surveillance. If he buys Joanna a present, on a whim one day, he buys something nice for Jim as well. He gets that face splitting smile and a hug from each of them, only Jim's leaves an uneasy aftertaste, a shadow of the discomfort he feels when Jim is watching them.

One day he's late for picking Joanna up from school. He gets there and the playground is empty except for a teacher, Jo and a pair of boys who he knows from his job at the hospital; they're brothers, both in care, and the older boy is constantly getting into trouble – playing rough with teenagers, burning himself trying to use fireworks. They have that look about them - nothing suspicious of current abuse, just a general lingering air of fucked-up-by-mom-and-dad. Neglect case, he suspects.

Joanna is, to put it mildly, displeased with him. He has a good excuse – he was in surgery to repair a severely punctured lung, when he'd found a lump which had turned out to be cancer. Instead of a twenty-minute patch up job, it had been a two hour search for more tumours and another hour ensuring he found a decent oncologist and started treatment immediately. Joanna, however, is seven, and severely under appreciative of his thorough practice. She's crying when he gets there, all snot and tears – he's actually only half an hour late, but he remembers what half an hour means to a seven-year-old – so he does what he always does. He wipes her snotty nose and picks her up, telling her how sorry he was and how he would never abandon her.

He thanks the teacher and turns to go. Out of the corner of his eye, he can still see the two brothers. The elder is ignoring him, too cool for school at eleven years old. The younger one can only be a year older than Joanna, and he's just watching. A little bit of curiosity, a little bit of hope. Something twists in his gut as he realises that the little boy is watching them and seeing a family, and he's struck by a second realisation that he almost doesn't want to have.

He takes Joanna out for a conciliatory ice cream, then drops her and her things off at her mother's and heads home, troubled and not sure of what to do about it.

Since blunt honesty is the foundation of his entire personality, it's also what he falls back on when it all goes to shit.

When Jim gets home from wherever he's been, McCoy is standing anxiously by the door and has been for almost an hour.

“Shit!” Kirk swears in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. “Are you okay?”

Leonard doesn't say anything, but apparently his face does, because Jim takes another step back until he's flat against the door. “What is it?”

McCoy sighs, frowning. His legs are tired from standing up for too long. “We need to talk.”

The look on Jim's face is one he'll hold in his heart in arguments to come. He slides down the door until he's sat on his ass on the floor. “You're breaking up with me?”

“What? No!” Bones is forced to crouch to be on Jim's level, to reach out and reassure when he's not feeling very reassured himself, but he can't stand to see Jim upset. “No. I just need to ask you something.”

Kirk looks hurt, staring back at him with round, wet eyes. He swallows loudly and waits for McCoy to speak.

When the silence between them has stretched so far that its air miles could take it to Vulcan and back, Bones takes a deep breath. “Why do you look at me and Joanna like that? Don't – don't get me wrong. I know you're not looking at her, I just... Why? What are you looking for, Jim?”

Jim swallows again and looks pointedly away at his hands. McCoy looks at them too. They're trembling. McCoy begins to worry that he's dredged up too much abuse. He knows Jim's childhood was rough.

“Jim? What is it? Tell me?”

Kirk's eyes lose focus, like he's trying to leave the conversation, but he still speaks. “No one ever loved me like that. I want what you give her.”

Even though he'd known what he might hear, Bones still feels... Awful. Confused, uncomfortable. Guilty. “What specifically?”

Jim sniffs in that way that means he's about to cry. Not that McCoy has ever seen him cry, but he knows when Jim goes off to do it alone. “All of it.”

McCoy bites his lip. “Jim... I can't be your everything.”

Jim folds in on himself even more, eyebrows drawn down. He doesn't say it, but they both know.

Bones is all he has.

Kirk takes a difficult, serrated breath, and Leonard can't leave him any longer, has to move forward and pull him into a hug. They fall down the wall until they're lying splayed out on the floor.

“It's okay, Jim. I got you.”

 

 

Daddy doesn't come till later, and he's not sure how he feels about that, either.

Jim's lying on his back, legs spread like he's been dared to do the splits in mid air, whilst McCoy squeezes a finger in next to his cock.

Jim groans and Bones thrusts, slowly pushing his finger further in and then twisting his wrist, hooking back beneath Jim's balls, and he can just, _just_ reach Jim's prostate, even at this horrible angle. He's a surgeon though, and all good doctors know how to milk a prostate.

He fucks Jim gently and then strokes, soft, teasing touches against the spongy, slightly firm tissue, swelling as it produces the precum that's now dribbling out over Jim's stomach.

Jim is near inarticulate, but not enough to save him.

“Please, Daddy.” He whimpers, and then his eyes snap open in panic. “Sorry! Sorry sorry Bones! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to I-”

The only way to make this more awkward is to let Jim carry on talking, so he doesn't, leans in and kisses instead. If he's honest, he'd've been happier if Jim _hadn't_ called him daddy, but it's too late now, and he's so close, can't bear to stop if he doesn't have to.

He doesn't want to have to respond, but his lack of resistance has done wonders for Kirk, who, ten seconds ago wasn't getting enough and is now clenching tight around him, so close to coming he can barely participate in the kiss. That's okay; Bones likes it sloppy and absent minded.

He makes a crooning sound, an it's-okay noise, and it's all the reassurance Jim needs to spill himself into the tight space between them.

McCoy keeps up the pressure on his prostate, milking it out of him and picking up the pace of his thrusts to finish before Jim's cum goes tacky and hard to wash out. Jim carries on squeezing him, his ass spasming at the overstimulation, and Bones buries his face in Kirk's neck as he fills him up with his own semen.

Between his lust and his orgasm, he almost forgets about it entirely, but then Jim's face is there, worried and apologetic. “I am sorry, Bones.”

McCoy is not one to overthink things. Well. He isn't one to create a problem where there doesn't need to be, so for the sake of Jim's happiness, he'd rather just not react at all. “It's okay darlin'.”

Jim smiles. He always did like pet names.


	2. Inversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry but I literally haven't even read this over for weird language or spelling mistakes - I just need to get his fic finished so I can write my longer ones without forgetting about it.
> 
> On another note, I might add more chapters in the future, but for now consider it complete.

It becomes abundantly clear that it's not going away, but then nor is Bones and nor, now that he is at least able to not stare at him and Joanna 24/7 is Jim. Bones will have Jim, if he has to take him weird daddy issues and kinks and all.

So even though he really can't be Jim's everything, it still looks like he'll have to be his Daddy.

Jim tries not to pressure him; never mentions it, doesn't stare, doesn't say the word. But knowing Jim wants something, maybe even needs it, and not giving it to him when he can isn't in McCoy's nature.

He starts to let it happen in tiny ways. At first, Jim doesn't recognise what's going on, and when he does, he pulls back from accepting. Looks confused when Leonard picks out his clothes for the day. Lets him brush his hair even though it's too short to really need it, watching with those wide eyes. Then refuses to be taken out to lunch.

But like Bones, he eventually relents, gives into it. It becomes an inevitability, albeit one that never leaves their bedroom.

In almost all ways, Bones is a completely different “Daddy” for Jim than he is to Joanna, which is as it should be. He worries, sometimes, about the implications of what they do – but then he realises that Jim doesn't even _have_ a father to project onto him. Just a certain need to be cared for that has never been met. In fact, as he strip Jim down and runs him a bath, Bones wonders how the hell Jim had managed to survive infancy with his mother gone and his stepfather indifferent. He supposes Sam had played a large part in Jim's early life.

Jim stands naked in their bathroom, trembling with nervous energy, half hard whilst Bones looks on indulgently and puts bubble bath into the running water, making sure it isn't too hot.

Jim isn't always “The Boy”. Yesterday it was Leonard blindfolded and cuffed to the bed, squirming with anticipation. The night before, it was plain old vanilla with a movie on the side. But more often than not, this is how it plays out, with Bones lowering his lover into the water and washing him from over the edge of the bath. Still, he feels inadequate. He doesn't know the rules and he has no interest in talking about them, but he wonders if he's really giving Jim all he can get out of this.

He starts from the bottom and works up, cleaning Jim's feet and gliding his hands through body wash up his legs.

Then he cups Jim's balls and strokes up the underside of his cock, tugging gently on his foreskin.

Other times Jim would grunt and groan, but when they do this he whimpers. “Daddy please will you get in the bath with me?”

McCoy rolls his eyes theatrically. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He drags himself out of his uniform – he really shouldn't wear it for this – and pushes Jim forwards to get in behind him.

Jim hums softly and lays back against him, arching his back so that McCoy's cock slides between his cheeks. “I've been dirty this week, I think you better wash me all over.”

Bones snorts against the wet skin of Jim's shoulder, but he gets the washcloth and proceeds to soap up and wash down all the bits of Jim that are above the waterline.

“And then I think you should fuck me.”

McCoy blinks at him, hesitates like he sometimes does, unsure of how their play fits around the conversation. “You old enough for shit like that?”

Jim splashes him. “I'm twenty-three. Unless you're into age play?”

Bones can't tell if he's being teased or not. Apparently not, because Jim sighs and twists round awkwardly to face him, displacing a large volume of water from the tub and doubtlessly ruining the bathroom rug. “We don't have to do this, you know.”

He shakes his head. “It's not that I don't... It's... I just don't know how.”

Jim lies back and pulls McCoy's arms about him like a blanket. “I could introduce you to some other people who could tell you what to do.”

Leonard is grateful that Jim isn't facing him to take in his alarm. He supposes that he shouldn't be surprised that Jim has had this need met elsewhere in the past, but he doesn't want to _think_ about it. “No,” He says, a little too quickly. “I... You could... We could swap rolls. Just for... To see.”

He shrinks back in the bath, but there's really nothing he can do to get away, with Jim simultaneously in his lap and on top of him, Jim who clambers up and over to turn around so that they're face to face.

“Sorry.” Bones apologises without knowing precisely why.

Jim shakes his head before getting out of the bath. McCoy goes to follow him, anxiety coiling in his gut, only to be pushed back down into the water by Jim as he wraps himself in a towel. “It's alright baby, Daddy's gonna get you cleaned up.”

So they're doing this now. This time, Bones is pretty sure he's the one gone owl-eyed, watching Jim wring out the washcloth with baited breath.

“Shhh, it's okay sweetie,” Jim reassures, stroking a hand from his clavicle down his belly and over his cock and then repeating. “Just tell Daddy if you want me to stop. You know your safeword.”

McCoy nods at him, because he has no idea what else to say. Jim lifts his arms and washes underneath them and then works the cloth over his nipples in wide circles, teasing lower until the strokes catch on the tip of his cock, buoyed up by the water and emerging interest.

The cloth floats away in the water as Jim palms him, slow, regular twists of the wrist interspersed by the flick of a thumb under the head.

Then without finishing him, Jim simply moves off to dip a jug into the bath water and pour it over McCoy's head.

“What?” Leonard says in something approaching outrage as Jim shampoos his hair. “We aren't done.”

Jim ignores him in favour of dumping another jug of water over his head. “What the fuck?” Bones should really go along with the experiment, but hell, he was almost there and Jim isn't exactly the easiest person to “daddy” either. He feels like he has the right to be demanding. Perhaps he isn't meant to be as indulgent as he thinks he is when they play this game.

“I think you're clean down there.” Jim tells him, opening the conditioner.

Bones bats the incoming hand away. Apparently, this has consequences.

Jim rinses the conditioner away and then hauls McCoy up and out of the bath. “That wasn't very nice, Daddy was trying to help you wash. Say sorry.”

“Sorry.” Bones doesn't know how to play Jim's part either, it seems.

Jim scowls at him. “Sorry Daddy, I won't slap your hands away when you're washing my hair.”

Even though it's just a game, the unfairness gets at him. He doesn't like to be treated like he can't decide things for himself, and he has no intention of repeating Jim's ridiculous game. “No.” He says instead, watching Kirk inch towards the bath brush.

Jim suppresses a smile as he picks it up, and masks it with another frown. He drops his towel and moves in close lips grazing McCoy's ear. “Can I?” He asks, punctuating the question with a smack to his left ass cheek.

Bones scrutinises him for a second, and then nods, tensing in preparation for the bizarre 20th century punishment. Jim walks him over to stand in front of the sink, leaning slightly forwards. The cold porcelain is uncomfortable on his dick.

They'd done this before, the spanking thing, although it had definitely been Jim on the receiving end of what amounted to a few firm swats. Bones expects love taps, but the second he hears the brush moving through the air and come into contact with his ass, he knows Jim's aiming for bruises. He shrieks and jumps up, only to have his wrists caught in Jim's grip whilst the brush comes down again on the same cheek.

If he were not the recipient it would be interesting to examine Jim's style of spanking, all on one side. He is though, and Bones is gritting his teeth trying not to swear or safeword. Jim doesn't notice or care, just keeps landing heavy blows over the exact same spot.

McCoy holds off on his vocalisations until his voice is already broken. “Fuck! Please... Fuck... Jim! Ow! Stop!” He isn't very good at begging.

Jim shakes his head and doesn't let up, keeps the smacks coming. “What do you call me?”

Bones grinds his teeth and tries to ignore how his eyes are watering. He almost kicks backwards, knocks Jim's legs out from under him, but that isn't the point of this exercise. He's meant to learn about what it is Kirk wants, and fuck if Jim isn't bent on teaching him.

In the end, it's easier just to give in. “Sorry Daddy!” He whines as the breath catches in his throat.

Jim stops, and he thinks he's going to be let up. Kirk strokes the reddened flesh of the left cheek, testing the heat and the colour. “See, wasn't so hard, was it?”

He goes to shake his head, when the brush lands on the right side and knocks a groan out of him. “No! Jim! What the fuck?”

“Well, you look all uneven with only one side red. Daddy's just making sure to do things properly.” There's a chuckle in Jim's throat, but there's panic rising in McCoy's. He jerks as a second and third blow hit the same spot, and finally wrenches himself around so that if Jim is going to hit him, hell, it's going to be in the balls.

Jim stops, putting the brush into the sink and resting his palm on McCoy's upper stomach, rising and falling with the heaving, fearful breaths as he strokes the alarm out of him.

“It's alright, sweetie,” Jim croons, pulling him away from the sink and tucks him to his chest. “Was that too much?” He murmurs in Bones' ear.

Leonard shakes his head and grunts in the negative. He thinks for a moment that the scene is over, but Jim unwraps his own towel and begins to dry him off, ruffling his hair and then drawing it about him like a cloak.

“Come on baby, let's go lie down.” Jim tugs him and he follows him through to the bedroom, lets himself be laid out over the bed. Jim unwraps him so that he's naked on top of the towel, face up, with Jim similarly naked leaning over him. “Does your butt hurt sweetie?”

For a moment he deliberates over his response. He means to scowl and answer back, but he wants to let Jim have this. “Yes Daddy.”

Jim strokes his belly again, down to palm his balls, and then pushes on his hip and shoulder. “Roll over, Daddy's gonna make you feel better.”

He obeys, shifting to lie on his front in the middle of the bed and then adjusting so that his cock is squashed up against his belly. He can't see what Jim's doing, but he can hear a plastic snap and he's unsurprised to feel Jim's fingers cold with cream and rubbing at the bruised skin on his left cheek.

It's somehow hotter than the spanking was itself, and it becomes a good thing that the towel is there to protect the bedsheets as Bones groans and thrusts against too much friction. Jim dips the moisturiser right into his crack, thumb brushing against his hole before he moves on to the next cheek, not as sore, but still warm.

“I want to see it.” He asks, surprising the both of them.

Jim's hand stills on his ass. “What do we say?”

Leonard swallows, feeling guilty and embarrassed for being so turned on by what is about sound so corny. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing sickly-sweet. “Please can I see my spanked bottom, Daddy?”

Jim, of all things, bends down and kisses his ass, right over a bruise. Bones can feel the smile on his lips. “Alright.”

McCoy starts to get up, but Jim is already manipulating his limbs, standing him up and positioning him so that he faces away from the mirror and into Kirk. He looks around, curious to see the marks.

They blossom along his ass, both cheeks pink but the left one darkening to purple just below the fullest point. The sight goes straight to his dick.

“Make them match,” He demands, still not quite there with the whole “sub” thing.

“Really?” Jim croaks, startled.

Bones meets his gaze quickly and then looks away, unwilling to ask again. Then he herds Jim to the edge of the bed and settles over his lap, assertiveness somehow alleviating the unsettling feeling of giving himself over for Jim to beat.

Jim hesitates, hand hovering in the air. “Ask for it.”

Their game's gotten away from them, and Bones tries to claw it back from the brink. “Please punish me Daddy.”

The first slap is immediate and hard and knocks the air out his chest. He groans and grinds into Jim's lap. “Fucking hit me!”

Jim does, obeys him this time, hand smacking against stinging flesh. The violence of it catches him and he flails through a few more strikes before surging up and knocking Jim backwards onto the bed.

They kiss feverishly, lips bruising like Leonard's ass.

“So?” Jim says expectantly, the question half swallowed by McCoy's mouth.

“I don't know.” He grunts, moving too fast to get lube out of the bedside drawer and to slick himself and his fingers up. “Fuck yourself on Daddy's cock.”

“Yes Daddy.” Jim replies as he lifts himself up for Bones' fingers to slip into him, two plunging in straight away to slide inside, scissoring, their tips just reaching his prostate to make him whimper in that way that he does when Bones is Daddy.

Jim pulls off before a third can join them, over eager.

“Slow down there darlin', you'll do yourself an injury.” He croons, grabbing Jim's hip and pressing his fingers back inside, three to carry on opening him up.

Jim keens and flashes his best puppy eyes.

McCoy feels his lips twitch along with his cock. He extracts his fingers and guides Jim down, breathing deeply to calm the sense of urgency pounding in his chest, feeling his own pulse twitch his stinging ass. 

Jim slides onto him like he's always been there, clenching slightly when he's all the way in.

Usually Bones would throw his head back and enjoy the ride, but he wants to look, watching Jim's hole stretch, engulfing his cock. He palms Jim's balls out the way. 

“You're a good boy Jim.” He moans, fighting the need to close his eyes and arch back into the sheets.

Jim might nod, or maybe he's just rolling his head around as he fucks himself on straining arms and thighs, virtually jumping up only to fall back down and impale himself anew.

McCoy is too far gone to hold onto the moment, is already spilling inside him.

Jim's limbs shake from the exertion and he pulls of, collapsing beside him on the bed, breath ragged.

Bones pulls him in as Jim had done to him earlier, kissing his sweating forehead and reaching between his legs to where his cock juts between them.

“You're such a good boy, Jim.” He slurs, already falling asleep whilst he jerks him off.

Jim thrusts into his palm for a mere twenty seconds before moaning once and painting it white. “Thank you Daddy.”

Bones milks it out lazily, thumb smearing cum at the head. He swallows wetly, watching Jim's face contort and then relax.

He drifts in an oxytocin haze as Jim tucks himself under Leonard's arm, dozing in the evening light pollution that floods their open window from the city.

“Do you think I'm a freak?” Jim asks from near his ear.

It's enough to make him crack an eyelid. “Everyone thinks you're a freak, Jim.”

Kirk elbows him in the ribs. “You know what I mean. Do you think I'm messed up? Like, do you think this is caused by upbringing?”

There's tension between them again, not of the sexual variety. He can feel Jim's limbs that should be fucked out and relaxed tensing and shifting. He takes advantage of the authority that “Daddy” imbues and pulls Jim back down before he can try and leave. His ass hurts. “I don't know. Of my sample size of two I can tell you that at least fifty percent had a perfectly normal childhood.”

“Oh yeah?” Jim plays along with his joke, but he doesn't sound happy.

Bones sighs and cranes his neck to kiss Jim's hair. “Darlin' it doesn't matter why people have it. It ain't unhealthy.”

He can still feel the frown tugging the muscles in Jim's face against his shoulder. “Other people think it's weird.”

Bones strokes the muscular plain of Jim's back. “Those people can go fuck themselves. And if they don't, Daddy can forget to sedate 'em the next time they wind up with a broken leg needs fixin'.”

He can tell it isn't alright, but Jim accepts his word for it nonetheless. The questions float around McCoy's head with a load of psychobabble and Freudian bullshit until they become meaningless, cleansed away by sleep. Mostly, he wishes he could go back into Jim's past and rid him of all the things that give rise to the doubt – even if it meant he had to give up being Jim's lover to become his real daddy instead.  


	3. Bonus - Mall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't even proof read this so I hope it's bearable.  
> Uh, enjoy your porn.

They've never done this before, taken their kink out of the bedroom. Bones isn't even sure kink is the right word any more, it's more like a lifestyle.

Not that they're obvious about it. Jim's in his normal clothes and so is Leonard, as they go through the motions of acquiring more normal clothes. Joanna isn't coming on _this_ shopping trip – although Leonard has to admit, getting her to buy any clothes at all is a nightmare. Joanna, unlike Jim, is shoppingphobic where it doesn't concern books or bizarre, overpriced toys that always end up as single-use-items.

The difference is that Jim is calling him Daddy. Nothing really obviously, just sometimes. And the contents of Leonard's bag. He's calling Jim pet names, which is nothing new, and manhandling him around the various stores they go into, which is also fairly standard. He has a wooden spoon in his bag, and he's never been more conscious of a cooking implement in his life.

They both know it's there, and because of this, it has to be used. He wishes he'd chosen something quieter, maybe a thin cane, but he'd've been too scared in case someone had seen it and _known_. Jim's scared too, teetering constantly on the edge of earning the inevitable before backing out each time.

“Jim, you okay?” He asks when they're alone behind a rack of shirts. It's breaking out of the role a little, but he can't let him stand there, rocking his weight from foot to foot.

Jim shrugs. “Just kinda nervous, I guess. What if we get caught?”

Bones sighs. _Then we'll be disciplined by Starfleet or arrested for indecency_. He shakes the thought from his head; there's no use getting wrapped up in the tiny possibility of consequences. Usually, he'd say this was a terrible idea, but for some reason he's now set on it. “That's all part of the fun.”

“Okay,” Jim says quietly.

The music in the shop is loud and obnoxious. They could probably get away with it here. Probably. He grabs a pair of jeans off a shelf in one hand and Jim's wrist in the other, slipping back into his role. “Off to the fitting rooms with you, kiddo.”

Jim drags his feet the whole way, looking around wildly to see if they're being watched. The Xindi-arboreal barely even glances at them as he shoes them towards a cubicle with only a full length curtain above it.

Leonard can feel the quickening of Jim's pulse and hear the slight wheeze of panic in his breaths as he pulls him into the cubicle and draws the curtain across.

The space inside is not overly small, about 1.5 by 2m, and the three walls are all mirrors. The only furnishings are the set of hooks on one wall and a stool in the corner. Leonard drags it forwards so that it's a few inches away from the right hand wall.

“Take your pants off, darlin',” He orders, feeling his nerves set into determination.

Jim looks at him wide eyed and shakes his head. “Not here. There isn't even a door.”

Jim knows his safeword. It's all been pre-decided. Bones gives him one more chance. “Pants off now, Jimmy.”

Jim looks toward the curtain again. “Can't I keep them on, Daddy?”

Leonard can't tell if it's part of the game or a genuine request, but really, they both know the answer to that. He reaches forwards and tugs hard until Jim's pants squeeze their way past his hips without undoing the fly, dragging his boxers with them. He shoves them all the way down to the ankle, and considers leaving them on to restrict his legs, but decides the nakedness is more important and pauses to take of his shoes.

Jim lets himself be stripped below the waist, stepping out of his shoes and pants and standing in the middle of the tiny room, mirrors reflecting him from multiple angles.

For a few seconds, Bones watches the rise and fall of his chest and focusses on calming down his own breathing. He shrugs out of his bag and hangs it on one of the hooks alongside the jeans he'd brought and pulls out the wooden spoon. His throat is momentarily too dry to speak and he swallows twice. “Kneel on the stool and don't touch your bottom.” He says, trying to get his nerve back through sheer force of will. Hysterically, he wants to laugh at the word bottom, but bites it back, since he's meant to be the adult. Or the other adult. Whatever.

Jim backs into the corner instead, hands covering his semi with a modesty that Leonard knows Jim doesn't actually have. “Daddy!”

McCoy suppresses a flinch at the possibility of Jim's voice carrying, and grabs Jim by the hips. “Kneel on the stool and don't reach back!” He repeats, pulling Jim forwards until his knees knock against the wood and then pushing him onto it.

Jim voices a wordless complaint but goes. He puts his hands on the mirror and then on his head before dropping them again, unsure.

Bones shifts the stool further away, forcing Jim to bend forward to lean back on the mirror for balance. From where he stands he can see the reflections of Jim's cock, twitching but not fully erect, and Jim can see his own ass. This is either a brilliant idea or a terrible one.

He glides his hand down Jim's back and then pushes his t-shirt up a few inches. “Now Jimmy, I want you to keep quiet unless you want everyone else in here to find out what a bad boy you've been. Okay?”

Jim nods and earns his first smack. The sound is harsh but smothered by the music; the hand print comes up immediately, pink on pale skin. “Yes Daddy,” Jim corrects himself.

Not that it does him any good; Leonard's hand cracks down again on the other cheek and Jim scrambles to keep himself upright against the smooth glass.

“If you don't cooperate here you'll get it at home too,” He punctuates his warning with several stinging smacks.

Jim plays up the role, nodding wildly. “I won't Daddy, I'll be good!”

Bones runs his hand under the hem of his shirt at the front, stroking the tense muscles of Jim's abdomen and pushing his ass out a little further.

He carries on spanking until Jim is gulping down breaths that mist the glass in front of him and his cock is bumping into the back of the hand on his belly.

“Half done now darlin',” Bones murmurs under the music. “You've been a real brave boy but now it's time for the spoon.”

Jim's moan can definitely be heard over the music, and Leonard's gaze twitches towards the curtain.

The first smack with the spoons draws only a sharp breath, and Bones keeps them coming until the volley is nearly constant, the slap of wood on flesh and harsh breathing filling their tiny space.

Jim's ass lights up under it, he can see Jim watching it turn red in the mirror. He smacks the same spot on Jim's right cheek until it goes purple and splotchy and Jim is keening quietly, fingers dancing and clawing at the sweat-wet glass.

When he's marked up and whimpering Bones switches sides like Jim had that one time for him, and focusses on making them both match. Jim twists and dances and eventually tries to reach back a hand to shield himself. “Daddy!” He cries out once, loud enough for everyone to hear, as his sweating palm loses grip on the glass and he slides down the mirror.

This leaves them in an interesting position; Jim's ass stretched tight, up high in the air with his body hanging down and his palms both flat on the floor. His legs have spread as much as they can to let him reach properly, he can see the slight bruising on his ass clearly now, in the mirror between the legs of the stool.

Leonard stops for a minute to admire the display, testing the heat of those crimson cheeks and rubbing down the cleft between them, all open and inviting with the new posture.

He puts a possessive hand on the small of Jim's back. “Daddy told you not to reach back sweetie. No he's gonna have to make sure you know the rules. You understand?”

Jim groans, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding him up. Another smack with the wooden spoon prompts him. “Sorry Daddy! I'm sorry please don't, I had enough...”

Bones isn't so sure. He pulls the spoon back and sets fire to the tops of Jim's thighs. Jim whimpers with every smack now, but he's trapped, movement isn't an option. He smacks until tears overflow from Jim's eyes and drip onto the lino floor.

“Daddyyy!” Jim almost shouts.

Leonard stops, unwilling to risk detection. He puts two fingers into the cleft of Jim's ass and forces the cheeks further apart.

“I told you not to make so much noise. Do you want people to find out what a bad boy you are?”

Jim shakes his head. “No Daddy.”

“I didn't think so.” The spoon comes down again, this time between Jim's legs, landing firmly on his perineum. He smacks it whilst Jim struggles almost wildly enough for his legs to fall, which is not a great deal from this viewpoint, until Jim dissolves into real, desperate tears.

Then he stops, pulling Jim up with both arms around his torso and repositioning him back where he'd been before, shaking arms against the mirror. “Well done, baby. Daddy's real proud of you.”

He allows Jim to cry it out alone for a moment whilst he finds the lotion from his back, and then he's back again, rubbing a palm of the cool ointment on the burning cheeks and thighs and down the crease. He strokes Jim's belly whilst he does it, kisses his shoulder and tells him what a good boy he is.

When Jim's stopped crying, he gives him a tissue and dresses him whilst Jim stands there limply. Jim's cock has to be forced back into the tight pants, and Bones is relieved that he himself was wearing dark jeans that wouldn't show up the damp spot on the front of them.

The Xindi shop assistant looks at them closely as they leave.

“They uh, they didn't fit.” Leonard tells him, handing the jeans back.

They skitter out of the store before the can hear a response, laughing and as crimson as Jim's ass.

Bones kisses his grin.

“I can't believe we actually did that.” Jim says when they stop for breath, his voice still trembling and weak. Bones suspects that it is mostly he who Jim believed wouldn't do it.

Leonard steers him to the next store along and leans to whisper in his ear. “Daddy has something for you. What d'you say we go in here, grab a shirt and you can try it out?”

**Author's Note:**

> Where did this even come from? I never had a daddy kink before and what's weirder is that I'm not sure I do now, either. Oh well...
> 
> Anyway, this what how the daddy kink happened for Kirk and McCoy; what they do with it is the next chapter.


End file.
